The Fever
by load my soul
Summary: Ema Skye never thought Klavier would show up at her door late at night. She never thought she would become fond of him or that he would come to her if he became ill. Then again, she also never thought she'd be taking care of a dying man. Ema/Klavier.
1. Du Hast Mich

WARNING: SPOILERS for the beginning of Apollo Justice. xD And possibly more spoilers as we go on through the chapters.

I'm a little shy about posting this on the internet. Dx It's my first AJ fan fiction. I'm sorry if it's terrible. xD

What I submitted is only chapter one. There's a lot of German in it. (It's all translated at the bottom, if I forgot anything, I'll be happy to add it to the list. They're all rough translations, so stuff might not be right. xD Sorry.)

* * *

"Who could that be at this hour? Ugh! Where are my snackoos?!" The ornery brunette armed herself with her bag of chocolate snackoos and threw her front door open. Her annoyance quickly turned to anger. "Agh! Why are **you** here?" She was shouting, but he merely smiled. He was soaked from head to toe, and his blonde hair was out of it's usual braid.

"Fräulein Detektiv, may I come inside? I would usually never intrude on such a beautiful woman as you this late, but… circumstances beyond my co-"

"Agh!! Just get in here!!" Ema growled, stepping aside to let the blonde prosecutor in. "Okay, you glimmerous fop, you've got six seconds to explain why you're here- starting… **now**."

"Es tut mir leid, mein liebe, ich denke nicht und… ich fuß."

"Shut up, right now. You know I only understood three words of that, right? Ich, nicht and und."

"Sorry… I wasn't thinking and I walked here." Ema rolled her eyes as Klavier sat down at her kitchen table. He breathed a sigh.

"Why did you really show up at my door soaking wet at three am?"

"I wanted to see your beautiful face, ja?"

"**Nein**. Wrong answer, oh King of Fop-dom. The truth now." He shrugged. The science nut sighed. "You can sleep on the couch. But… **not** in that. You clothes are soaked and I don't need a soggy couch."

"…As much as I hate to ask, what am I going to sleep in, liebe?" Ema retreated to her room, then returned shortly with the manliest articles of clothing she could find.

"These." Klavier couldn't argue. He moved toward the bathroom silently and Ema couldn't help but wonder why he was out so late… or why… "You're not yourself." He looked up at her as he emerged from the bathroom, clad in her attire. The baggy sweat pants and the loose fitting shirt didn't seem to suit him as well as his soaking wet clothes had.

"I assure you, Fräulein, that I am quite myself, I am just sleepy."

"Sure." She chucked a pillow at him. "There. And here's a blanket. Just don't make any noise or wake me up." Klavier took his seat on the couch.

"Danke." Ema returned to her bedroom. "Gute nacht, Fräulein Detektiv." He did not lay down. He did not sleep. He allowed his mind to wander. His mind wandered to Kristoph... and he found himself feeling sick. So sick that suddenly, he found himself racing toward the bathroom. When his stomach settled, he stumbled back to the couch. His head was foggy and he was tired. It took him a little while, but he drifted off.

* * *

"Oh geez! I forgot you were here," Ema commented as she left her room in the morning. "Hey, Fop?" He didn't respond, he laid still. Sweat drenched the shirt that she'd lent him. His hair was frazzled and tangled about his moist face. "Hey," she said, tone louder, "wake up, fop, it's morning." Klavier did not move an inch. Ema reached down and placed her hand upon his arm. She shook him roughly. "Klavier! Wake up! You are one heavy sleeper…"

"Fräulein, I am awake…" he muttered, rubbing his eyes in slight annoyance.

"Couch uncomfortable? Did you lose some precious beauty sleep?" He gave her the tiniest hint of a blank stare. "Hey."

"Ach, nein, your accommodations were quite lovely… it's just that I was not feeling quite up to par last night. I… had to clean up your sink."

"…If I find one trace of fop-vomit, you will die," she growled. The detective turned on her heel and entered the bathroom. Spotless. He'd cleaned every inch of her bathroom. "You're still not yourself, you dumb fop."

"I'm not really all that 'glimmerous' anymore since the Gavinners disbanded, am I?" He queried, "I'm sorry about the bathroom, did I clean it okay?" She nodded, "Good to hear. I'm going to go change. Then I will be out of your hair, ja?"

"…ja." she replied, "Don't get the wrong idea or anything, but I want you to stay for breakfast." She could finally admit her worry when he said the words,

"Actually, Fräulein, I am not all that hungry and I could not impose on you any longer. I will have to decline." He entered the bathroom and changed, folding the borrowed clothes before depositing them into the bathroom hamper. "Danke for the use of your couch and your kind hospitality. I will see you at work." He exited.

"He didn't even want to stay for breakfast…?!" Ema exclaimed, watching him saunter away. "Why should I worry about him? That idiot is fine."

* * *

"So he didn't show up to work?" Ema grumbled, slamming her apartment door shut. And suddenly, she found herself tripping. Everything in her arms spilled to the floor as she fell. "Ow! What the hell could I have left **there** of all places?!" She cursed loudly, turning around to see what she had tripped over.

Klavier Gavin laid in a heap on her floor.

Ema's cursing became louder as she scrambled over to him. Even a foot in the side hadn't disturbed him from his sleep. How did he get in here? Was he dead?! Her hand shot over to his wrist. She let out a sigh of relief. A pulse. He had a pulse.

"What the hell?" she mused, noting his pulse's rapid pace. "H-hey! Klavier, wake up! You're on my floor!" She took him by the lapels of his jacket and shook him around. His eyes cracked open and a pathetic moan escaped his lips. "Oh my **god**. Your breath smells like p-… You threw up in my bathroom again, didn't you, you ass!" He shook his head.

"Nein, nein... someone's trashcan. Then I came back here and found a spare key under your rug. You forget your keys a lot, ja?"

"No! And I'm calling a doctor or something." She stood, only to have him grab on to her ankle. "What now?"

"Please, don't." She eyed him.

"No. I'm calling a doctor! It's time to figure out what's wrong with you and what the heck made you sick!" She munched her snackoos in frustration and reached for the phone.

"Stop it. I already know what's wrong." She placed the phone back on the cradle, knelt back down and stared expectantly. "I believe it's called," he began to speak in simple Borginian.

"And what is that?" She felt a tad relieved when a small smile crossed his face.

"A degenerative disease that I seemed to have picked up while I was in Borginia. Borginian Fever." Ema watched him carefully. "It's killed many in Borginia." Ema's relief faded away and suddenly, she was a little bit angry.

"Borginian… Fever…? Is it contagious?"

"Would I be here if it was? I would never want to get you sick. It can only pass from person to person…" He chose his words carefully, "through contact with bodily fluids. There have been reports of children getting it from their mothers and people getting it from their spouses."

"What did you do to get yourself sick like this?!" Ema was raging, and she didn't even know why. She couldn't be jealous. She just couldn't be! "What the hell did you do, you ass?! What the hell did you do in Borginia?! N-no. **Who** the hell did you do in Borginia?!" Klavier stared blankly up at her and stayed quiet. "You… you just couldn't resist, could you?"

"That's not what happened."

"Sounds more likely than mother to child!" Ema snapped, "I need some coffee and some Snackoos and you better not bother me." The blonde rocker pulled himself to his feet.

"It's not what you think." Ema saw his face grow grim. "If you wish to know the embarrassing truth, I shall tell you." He turned away, "_I am a virgin_!" Ema stared, unsure of what to say, "I don't know how I got this, as I haven't been in Borginia for a while." Ema kept staring.

"… How are you feeling right now?" That was the only thing she could think of to say.

"You want to know the symptoms, don't you?" Ema waited patiently for him to continue, but he merely rubbed his temples in annoyance. "I should probably go home, ja? I don't want to bother you and incur the wrath of the Snackoo Queen." He wobbled and swayed. Ema grabbed his wrist and pulled him back, surprised at how easy it was to pull him. "Fräulein… I will be quite alright on my own."

"But--"

"I'll be fine."

Ema knew that eventually, he would need to admit to himself that he would not be alright on his own. Especially not now that his only living relative was completely insane and behind bars.

"No." He glanced at her. "You're staying here until you're well again." She frowned, averting her eyes. "I'm not doing this because of any obligation, but damn. I can't let you walk out there. Just look how you ended up in my apartment. I mean, for god's sake I thought someone had been stupid enough to break in and kill you and leave you there."

"I've got a spare room… Lana used to live here, but she moved In with her fiancé, Jake, a long time ago, so-"

"You've been living alone und you're lonely." Ema twitched. That may have been true, but he didn't have to go and point out her crippling loneliness!

"_I have science to keep me company_!" she shouted, "The door is over there, why are you just standing there? Go."

"Uhm… there is ein problem with your logic, Fräulein. You are still holding my wrist, ja?" Ema threw Klavier's hand back at him with unintentional force. "Ach, das ist nicht so nett, Fräulein…"

"Ugh. Sorry," she muttered, reaching into her bag of snackoos. "Come with me," she grumbled between munches. She led him into an empty room, the bed was still made, still there waiting for someone to return to it. "Yes. Those sheets are clean, and yes, you can stay here."

"Should I pay rent?"

"Better believe it. My water bill is already through the roof and my electric bill is sky high too," she grumbled. "Tomorrow we'll get some stuff from your… whatever you live in."

"Why don't **you** move in with **me**?"

"Because then you'd be a fop in natural, glimmerous habitat and I'm not sure I could handle being your live-in nurse."

"Nein, Fräulein. I don't want a nurse and I certainly don't need you to take care of me out of pity." His tone had become slightly aggravated. "I think I should leave."

"God damn it! I told you to stay here. I won't be responsible for whatever happens to you and I won't have your stupid foppy death on my conscience!"

"Ach…" He retreated into the room and flopped over onto the bed.

"I'm sorry… I-I didn't mean it like that."

"Nein, nein… I just didn't think about what would happen to me… later on. The Fever has a ninety-seven percent kill rate. I mean, I'm going to die. Ich bin sehr erschrocken." Ema found herself getting angry again, she shoved her hand into her bag of snackoos and grasped one between her fingers. "Sorry, I know that you don't know Ger-"

A loud THONK.

"Stop talking so negatively! **God**!"

"Ach… you snackoo'd me." He looked bewildered, "My negativity... Does it make you angry?"

"Yes! So shut up, you dumbass! Get some sleep and get better. If you want dinner, just let me know." Klavier smiled and watched her walk toward the door, her lab coat billowing as she exited. She slammed the door and made her way into the kitchen.

"Thanks for worrying about me, Fräulein."

* * *

Es tut mir leid - I'm sorry.  
Danke - Thank you  
Ja - Yes  
Nein - No  
Mein liebe - My love  
Gute nacht - Good night (Said when going to sleep.)

Sorry if I forgot anything.


	2. Morning High

Well, here's chapter two. I've been writing it and rewriting it since I posted the first chapter. I hope that this chapter is okay. XD When stories of mine get reviewed, I get writer's block. I guess I'm usually just nervous about disappointing people, as I haven't written anything more than a fanfic oneshot in a few years. But here's hoping that it doesn't disappoint!! You saw it here first, folks. And now, the German reference:

Das fruhstuck ist kaput, ja? - The breakfast is broken, yes?  
Meine Mutti… sie ist in Deutschland. - My mother... she is in Germany.  
Liebchen - love  
Ich denke das Mädchen - I think the girl...  
Oma - Grandma  
Opa - Grandpa  
Gefängnis - jail  
er ist nicht hier - he is not here.

Some German is translated directly in the story.

* * *

Chapter 2

It was a little hard for Ema, getting used to Klavier living in her apartment. It was strange enough that he was living there, but he still hadn't told her anything about the disease. All she knew about it was one, it was deadly, and two, it was called _Borginian Fever_. She opened up her internet browser and got down to her investigation. Wikipedia came up with a blank page, yahoo results came up with "associated pages". Google came up blank too. Just then, she remembered WebMD.

"Bingo…" she muttered under her breath, "Borginian Fever works in stages. Stage one's symptoms include… Nausea, vomiting, lack of appetite, weakness, and fatigue." She clicked around. "The early stage of Borginian Fever lasts a few months. Stage two lasts for a few weeks." Her eyes scrolled across the final stage's symptoms and she found herself almost unable to read through them. "Screw reading this!" She shoved her hand into her seemingly bottomless bag of Snackoos and directed her investigation toward ways to catch the disease. _Mother-to-child, partner-to-partner, and the lesser known…_ she tried in desperation to click the link, but it lead her to a four-oh-four error page. A curse left her lips. Her investigation had ended due to a faulty internet link.

She closed her search window when she heard her stomach growl, begging for real food. "Time for breakfast!" She made her way into the kitchen and began to think. What should she make for breakfast? Now that she wasn't alone anymore, she had to make breakfast for the both of them or risk looking rude. She got out her frying pan and the bacon from the fridge.

_Germans like bacon… right?_ She shrugged and threw it into the pan. _Eh, whatever. Who cares? It's my apartment, he'll have to eat it and like it!_ Ema was never that much of a cook, she burnt everything she touched. Even instant noodles. Cracking open a pair of eggs, she got out her whisk.

_Germans like eggs too, right?_ She frowned. Why should she care? It's not like she actually wanted to impress him or possibly brighten his day with breakfast or anything. More than anything, she supposed she just wanted him to eat something… and if she cooked it for him, he might feel a little bit obligated to eat it. Getting out a smaller frying pan, she greased it up and poured the eggs into it. _Should I make him an omelet or scrambled eggs? Should I ask him? No, Skye, you're trying to **surprise **him. _She paused. _Wonder if he's even up yet…_ She checked the eggs and flipped the bacon, then headed over to his bedroom. "Before I check… I wanna grab my book from my desk…" She headed into her room and picked up her book from her desk. A science book, no doubt. She wandered over to Klavier's door. Through the wooden door, she could hear him breathing softly. Opening the door a crack and poking her head inside, she caught a glimpse of him. He laid on his back, breathing in and out. Inhaling, exhaling steadily. Exchanging Carbon Dioxide for Oxygen. She crept over to his bedside and glanced down at her possibly permanent houseguest. She smirked quietly, noticing the dopey look on his face. "_Pompous German Rock Star Prosecutor Drools In Sleep," end quote._ She thought in Spark Brushel fashion. "I should probably…oh shit!" she muttered, quickly moving back into the kitchen.

The eggs and bacon were burnt to a crisp. "Nooo!" She tried to salvage the food, but there was nothing to salvage.

"Das fruhstuck ist kaput, ja?" Ema jumped and whirled around, spatula in hand

-- ready to fight. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I thought I smelled something burning. Guess I was right."

"Jerk. It's all burnt now… we can't eat this." Klavier shook his head.

"I like my food burnt." He took a piece of bacon and some burnt scrambled eggs and put them onto a plate.

"You're just saying that." He walked past her and sat at the table. "But that's full of carcinogens. They cause cancer!" He paused and gave her a look. "Oh yeah, the Fever…" she paused, "But still burnt food tastes horrible!" He pushed the food around on the plate, gathering some of the charcoaled looking foodstuffs onto his fork. He lifted the fork to his mouth. Ema watched him closely. He swallowed. The brown haired woman twitched. "You didn't even taste that! All you did was swallow it!" she accused, pointing an angry finger in his general direction. He enveloped her hand in his and smiled broadly.

"Ah, so you found me out. I mean, I like my food burnt, but this is burnt beyond what I find acceptable to choke down." Ema glared.

"I was cooking just to be nice! I figured I shouldn't look rude and cook something for the both of us!" He shook his head.

"You didn't need to, Fraulein. You could have just told me that cooking wasn't your strong suit."

"Hey, Mr. Perfectionist, shouldn't you still be cleaning my bathroom?" He paused. "Be quieter when you're throwing up, would you? I could hear you retching all night!" She had completely embarrassed him, she could tell by the look on his face. She had to admit, she felt a bit guilty about what she was doing, but shrugged it off. He nodded, turning his burning embarrassment into boyish charm.

"So, as my apology for keeping you up with my unpleasant retching, why not allow me the honor of cooking you breakfast?" She eyed him suspiciously.

"There better be coffee…" she muttered as he entered the kitchen.

"Natürlich, Ich würde irgendetwas für dich machen, Fraulein Detektiv Skye." She rolled her eyes,

"What did you just say to me?"

"Naturally, I would make anything for you, Miss Detective Skye. Nothing dirty or, dare I say _foppish_."

"Everything you say is foppish." A simple smile rested upon his lips. _That smile is deadly, Skye. Stop being happy about seeing that stupid smile. It's not… that great. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm losing myself in that smile._

"You want to watch? Although… this is a _secret_ recipe." The science nut battled with her curiosity. _What could he put in eggs and bacon to make it taste better? _"You want to know what makes my breakfast taste better?"

"…No," she spat, "…ugh, yes." The last part of her sentence had fallen into more of a grumble by the time she'd said it. He smiled,

"**Love**."

"I've analyzed that statement. It is so corny that it's chemically unstable." She sighed. "You're crazy. And stupid. And a fop." He gave a laugh.

"One breakfast with extra love for ein sehr besonderes mädchen, coming right up." She stared at him expectantly. "A very special girl." The man shrugged, smiled and retreated into the kitchen to start on breakfast. Ema quietly watched Klavier from around the corner. His back was to her, which was good. She didn't want to seem like she was interested… because she **wasn't**. Her gazed shifted to his manly hands. He gently cracked open an egg into a bowl, then another, and whisked them up. He cleaned the pans of Ema's breakfast disaster and washed off the spatula. Everything he did, he did with precision and care.

"I can see you there, mädchen. Why not come in and watch? I could give some pointers, ja?"

"I don't need pointers from a fop!" she growled, shying back around the corner. "Stupid non-food-burning fop…" She reclaimed her seat at the table.

"Plate, plate, plate, plate…" he paused, "Aha! Here we are" He dished up the eggs and the bacon and placed them in front of Ema. "Two eggs on toast with a side of bacon, with a nice, tall glass of orange juice. Enjoy." Ema glanced down at her meal. Everything was cooked to perfection. Nothing burnt, nothing out of place. It was beautiful. Perfect. She almost didn't want to eat it. "Are you going to eat it… or just stare at it all day?" Then it hit her.

"Hey, where's yours?" He sat across from her and watched her carefully with his glimmering, sapphire optics. "I hate eating in front of non-eating people!"

"Don't feel bad about eating in front of me; I'm not hungry. But **please**, eat, mädchen. I would love it if you did." Ema had never tasted something so delicious in her life. "How is it?"

"H-How did you manage…" she didn't really want to compliment him, but this just had to be said…! " …to make simple bacon, eggs and toast taste so good?" He laughed, clearly pleased that she was enjoying her meal. He seemed reluctant to answer, but finally inhaled deeply, saying,

"…It's my mother's secret recipe." The words seemed to cause him pain. Regardless, a smile crossed his face. "I was sworn to secrecy."

"Think she'd let me in on her secret?" A heavy silence filled the room. She saw the smile fall away for an instant. _Did… did I just say something I shouldn't have…?_

"Meine Mutti… sie ist in Deutschland." He paused, "Sie… Sie ist Tot." The smile reformed, but it left Ema feeling a bit cold. A look crossed his face, as if he were in pain. A look Ema recognized; long ago she had worn the same look. It didn't take long for her to realize.

I_t's an easy solution. Two plus two equals four. …It's just like what happened to me and Lana. Mrs. Gavin is dead. And I trudged up bad memories. _The smile he had pasted upon his face was tainted with the slightest hint of pain. It clearly hurt him to think of her... _It… it's not a genuine fop smile. Crap. Way to go, Ema. _"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It is a secret, after all!" Ema couldn't help but try to cover her mistake. _Gah! Crap!! I'm such an idiot…_

Noticing her distress, he changed the subject. "Nein, nein, liebchen. We should get ready for work." Ema nearly protested. "I asked specifically for our other co-workers not to give me any special treatment. I want no surprise days off or changes in my workload until I turn into an invalid." The way those last few words rolled off of his tongue almost worried Ema.

"Don't say things like that, okay? I know this is hard for you… and it's scary. I mean… you're…" He looked away. She paused, deciding against finishing her sentence. "It's hard for me too. _I'm scared for you too!_" She glanced at him through her bangs and waiting for a reaction. Any sort of reaction. An awkward silence filled the air. He was staring at her. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "…What?!"

"Is the Fräulein finally admitting it?" The smile turned into a full scale grin.

"Admitting what?"

"You love me. You don't want to lose me," he laughed, "Oh, you know it." Ema's blood boiled and she stomped into her room.

"You're… you're so stupid! Stop making jokes! I don't love you, you idiot!"

"Ich denke das Mädchen… she doth protest too much." Ema dressed quickly and stormed out of her room.

"Sometimes, you really worry me! I'm trying to be serious… and you turn it into a joke! It won't be a joke anymore once this disease has a good grip on you! And once this disease takes a good hold on you, you'll be scared out of your damn mind!" He watched her carefully, feeling the anger radiate off of her, as well as waves of fear. She turned on her heel. "I don't even know why you came to me!" she scowled. "Get dressed and go to work!" Ema shouted, opening the front door and slamming it. Once he was alone, he allowed the frown he'd been holding back to permiate through his carefully crafted facade. It nested upon his lips and he closed his eyes. A sigh escaped his lips.

"Well, you're the only friend I honestly have left…" He thought about his dwindling list of friends and relatives. "Oma and Opa are dead. Mutti… ist tot. Vater ist in Gefängnis. Daryan ist in Gefängnis… und... he also hates my guts now." He began to think of his other band mates. "Markus was transferred so he could be closer to his mutti. Kolya had to go to Russia. And… Ian is with his wife and newborn child." He paused. "And Kristoph." He bit his lip in anger, his pearly whites biting down as hard as they could without breaking the skin. "Er ist… er ist nicht heir," he managed to choke out through his anger. "Und das Mädchen..." Out of all the people he knew in the states, these were the only friends he could ever remember having. "Das Mädchen, is the only one I have left." He covered his eyes with his hand. A yawn crossed his lips and he removed the hand to survey his face.

Ugly black rings were forming under his eyes, he could see them if he looked closely. Generally, he slept eight hours a night. But he knew all too well that the Fever was causing the sleepless look. He cursed silently and rubbed at his eyes a bit. In his opinion- without the charm and the smile-- he looked like a zombie. He pulled on his clothes, then entered the bathroom to fix his frizzy hair and brush his teeth. As soon as he was finished readying himself, he stepped out of the front door and locked it with the spare key he had received.

"Finally!" The voice made him jump. "You take forever getting ready." He had been genuinely surprised by her voice, but it quickly faded.

"I'm sorry," he said casually as they began to walk, "I didn't know the beautiful mädchen was waiting for me. I'll hurry next time, ja?" A frown played with the corners of her mouth, but it dissipated. _So… she's not as annoyed with me as she'd like me to think._

"…I don't mind waiting," she muttered, loud enough for him to hear. "But don't take that the wrong way." He laughed.

"I won't. I won't."

"We should get to work now. We'll probably be late." They began to walk, exiting Ema's apartment building and down the street. The detective stopped dead in her tracks, green eyes widening. "Oh no… if we walk in together… won't they get suspiscious?!"

"Is that so bad?"

"Yes!"

"Then I will gladly walk in late."

"Huh?"

That smile had reappeared…! "I'm going to walk around the block so we won't walk in together."

"…Thank you." His smile broadened. A happy feeling enveloped both of them, though Ema would never admit feeling happy.. And for some reason, Ema was dazzled by that intoxicating smile.


	3. Mein Herzt Brent

I apologize for this taking so long. I hit a terrible slump of writer's block. (_Oh, excuses excuses._)

-shot'd- Oh my.

But seriously now, I apologize for the sloppiness of this chapter and how quickly it goes (_...you'll see_). And I'm sorry if my portrayal of Kristoph is really bad, I'm not good at writing for people like him. D

* * *

Asleep at home. She left the precinct, called him, even made a run to his office… and found him asleep on the couch at home. After munching on a few snackoos, she sighed. "You're killing me, Gavin. You're seriously killing me," she muttered, stepping closer and noticing in slight horror at what he'd done to his gorgeous hair. The drill shaped ponytail laid on the coffee table, clearly, and quite messily chopped off. "What the hell? You could have asked me to cut it or whatever…" She rolled her eyes and turned away, "You'd probably say something stupid like, _Me cutting off my own ponytail, that's symbolic, ja? …Whaaaat, don't you like me with short hair?_" she muttered, poking fun at his accent.

"It _is_ symbolic, ja? And… when doing the cute little "_I'm mocking the sexiest man alive, Klavier_" voice, y--" _Thonk._

She promptly snackoo'd him. "Please continue."

"--you should pronounce the word--" he had a bit of a hard time saying it, "_th_at. You should pronounce it "zat". And American w's are pronounced as v's." Ema smirked, removing her coat and scarf and placing them on the love seat.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Am I really killing you?" he asked, outright. "Because I do have a house of my own." _Thonk._ He picked up the snackoo off the couch and popped it into his mouth. "Ugh, tastes like chalk."

"And I'd feel like a terrible person for leaving you alone. I don't think you can be alone if you're sick. I mean, why do you think I'm here? I thought you'd died or something. No one could get a hold of you. Check your phone." He pulled out his cell phone and hesitantly checked it. "And they do _not_ taste like chalk."

"S-Seventeen missed calls?" he asked, incredulous. "…How many on the office phone?"

"I lost count. You know, I really think you should take a sick leave or something. You're clearly just too tired to work!"

"No, I'm fine, Fräulein." he said, seemingly unable to make his weary body bite back a yawn. She frowned.

"Objection. Don't make me force you to stay home." She couldn't tell him that she was worried. He'd been living with her for two weeks and he was looking thinner already. "And you're going to eat something, too."

"_Achtung_, baby. Your objection holds no power as we are not in a courtroom. And I'm not an inva-"

"You're getting awfully close to **looking** like an invalid," she interrupted, crossing her arms.

"Now please," he sighed, picking up the file he'd left on the coffee table, "I'd like to get this done." She sat on the love seat over in the corner. "I'm going out after I'm done with this, so you don't have to wait for me to start dinner."

"You're always going out. Where are you going all the time?" He looked up and smiled.

"You're worried about me" he sang.

"Why would I be worried about _you_?! I'm just incredibly nosy! And because of you, I have to go all the way back to work to clock out! Now will you zip it?" He looked up at her with a crooked smile and proceeded in pretending to zip his mouth shut. "You act like such a little kid."

"Aaah, I may be childish by nature, but I assure you, I am one hundred percent, all natural German **man**." She twitched.

"That was just dripping with innuendo, you pervert." He began to laugh.

"I'm sorry, Fräulein, I couldn't help myself," he paused. "But seriously now… you should go clock out. It's getting colder."

"Who are you telling? You've been in the warm apartment all day." Ema looked outside and stared at the trees. "It's freezing." The branches were almost bare now. Turning away from the window, her eyes scanned the room.

"Be careful not to catch a cold. Bundle up, ja?" She grabbed her coat and scarf from the love seat and put them back on.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," she suggested, re-wrapping her scarf around her neck.

"It's not necessary," he countered.

"Sure, whatever," she sighed, opening the front door.

"Something wrong?"

"No, I'm leaving, okay, sir?" he nodded. "I'll see you later."

"Tschüß, Fräulein," he said with a gentle smile. She closed the door to the apartment and began to walk back to the precinct.

_Jerk. He didn't even bother to offer me a ride. It's late… Ugh. I wish I had a car,_ she grumbled mentally, _Oh well, I'll just take a taxi._ After failing to wave down a Taxi, she decided to walk. It took her forty-five minutes to get to the Precinct, and it was only to clock out. To get home, she had to pass the Detention Center. She squinted, staring at the familiar car that had just pulled into the Detention Center parking lot. _What is Gavin doing here?_ she thought, watching her secret roommate climb out of his car and walk into the building. _Oh yeah… Kristoph is still here…_ She didn't know why, but she followed him, watching him flash his ID toward the guard and enter the Solitary Confinement hallway. She shook her head. "…I shouldn't be here."

* * *

"I know you don't want to see me… but I had to tell you something important." Klavier said, looking in through the bars of his brother's cell. The tall, bespectacled blonde turned away from his bookcase and smiled.

"Now, now… Why wouldn't I want to see my only baby brother?" Kristoph asked, stepping closer to the bars. "If it's about you, it's always important," the man paused, looking his brother over. "You cut your hair… by yourself, no doubt. And you look like you've lost weight, have you been eating right?"

"It's only five or six pounds at the most…" Klavier sighed, "But what I wanted to tell you. Kris, I am very…" He averted his eyes.

"You shouldn't be afraid to talk to me, you know." There was something familiar about the way Kristoph talked to him. He suddenly felt a chill go down his spine. His brother was being completely manipulative. Trying to make him forget about what he'd done. About what he'd made Klavier do to Phoenix Wright. Kristoph had used Klavier to disbar Phoenix. He knew he shouldn't feel afraid, but his body and mind were disagreeing with each other. "Klavier. You don't look well. Are you alright?"

"Nein, I'm not. I have a disease," he finally admitted.

"Are you receiving treatment? You should take better care of yourself. And where did you acquire this disease?"

"I have Borginian Fever." Kristoph waited for the other man to continue. "And I'm dying." Both brothers fell silent for a moment. Kristoph let out a strangled little noise that Klavier thought sounded suspiciously like a stifled laugh. The prosecutor looked up at his brother, his eyes wide. The older man was laughing hysterically, almost to the point of tears. "W-Why are you laughing?! This isn't funny!"

"What a strange coincidence! Both Gavin brothers…" he stopped to catch his breath. "…sentenced to death." Suddenly, Klavier felt sick to his stomach.

"…What?" he asked, swallowing hard. "…You've been sentenced?"

"To death," Kristoph reminded, "It seems that my crimes were too terrible."

"Two counts of murder, one count of attempted murder, conspiracy, espionage and perjury," Klavier recited robotically. Kristoph smiled.

"Aaah, you remembered." The younger brother nodded stiffly, trying his best to keep the contents of his stomach where it belonged. "Honestly, I'm shocked that you didn't know. I thought you'd be the first to know."

"Well, I wasn't," he replied, doing his best to keep a straight face.

"How is my precious Frou-Frou holding up?" Kristoph asked, a rather bored tone coming into his voice. _Frou-Frou_ was Kristoph's pet. She was a small, fancy mouse that he had bought shortly before Apollo Justice's first trial… Since that trial had ended in his incarceration, Kristoph had passed on the responsibility of caring for Frou-Frou onto Klavier. Klavier had always been good with small animals, always handling them with care, keeping in mind their fragileness.

"I'm afraid that in my sickness, I forgotten about her. She died." A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. "I'm sorry," he sighed, Kristoph nodded in understanding. Klavier leaned against the bars with all of his weight. He tried desperately to keep himself upright, but still collapsed to the floor. The guard came running over.

"Please… don't vomit all over my floor. I'd rather not deal with that right now." The short haired blonde nodded stiffly once more, but was still unable to contain himself.

"Mr. Gavin, what's the matter?" the guard asked. He let out a groan and turned away from his brother, the contents of his stomach spilling out onto the floor. He coughed and retched quietly, trying not to disturb anyone else.

"My brother is ill. Please, see him safely to his car."

"Kristoph…"

"Bye bye, Klavi, come back when you're feeling up to it; I have important things to tell you before we die." The guard helped the rock star up and took him out to the lobby, where Ema still sat in deep thought.

"Oh, hello, Detective Skye," the guard sighed, making Klavier jump. The blonde pulled away from his escort.

"F-Fräulein?! What are you doing here?"

"Huh?! Oh… I'm sorry, I just had to talk a witness…"

"Oh? Off duty? Who?" The Prosecutor asked slyly, when Ema couldn't come up with a name, he frowned. "…You followed me here, ja?"

"Yeah," she admitted. "I told you I was nosy. …I'll take him from here. Thanks." Klavier draped his arm around Ema's shoulder, but she shoved him away. "You can walk on your own. Like you said, you're not an invalid." He fished his keys out of his pocket and walked around to the driver's side. "Oh no you don't. You may not be an invalid, but there's no way I'm letting you drive home. You're weak and shaking."

"I told you that your were worried about me…" he joked, receiving a quick smack to the back of the head as Ema stole the keys from his hand. "Ach, why a hand and not a snackoo?"

"Are you nuts? I wasted too many of my precious snacks on you already." Ema shoved Klavier in the direction of the passenger side and slid into the driver's seat.

"You do have a license… right?" he asked, a bit concerned.

"Of course! I just… haven't driven in a while-" he looked at her expectantly, "Errr… three years, but it's like riding a bike, right? You never forget! Just calm down and let me prepare myself." She adjusted the mirrors, adjusted her seat and fastened her seat belt before turning on the car.

"I'm going to admit, I'm not too comfortable with you driving, Mädchen…"

"Oh shove it, we'll be fine! The apartment is only a few blocks away." She carefully pressed the gas pedal, sending the car jerking forward. "….Uhm, yeah. I meant to do that!" She quickly shifted the car into reverse, Klavier leaned back in his seat, thanking god for seatbelts.

* * *

_Das Mädchen's driving is shaky at best_, Klavier noted blearily, but he couldn't find the effort to care too much about anything. He was cold. He was cold and sweating at the same time. He knew Ema was talking to him, but the incessant ringing in his ears made it hard for him to concentrate on her words.

"Are you going to get out of the car or just sit here all night?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Fop?" He managed to give her a smile and push himself to get out of the car. He now considered making it to their apartment an accomplishment, as the five minute walk to the apartment suddenly felt like five days. His roommate unlocked the door, picked up the remote and turned on the television. "Finally home! Just in time for game shows," Ema sighed, collapsing onto the couch. "Are you sure you're okay?" She had her back to him.

"Ja," he replied, clumsily hanging up his scarf. A sudden feeling of lightheadedness came over him and he silently sunk to the floor. "I feel fine." His world was spinning. A loud gasp escaped his lips, giving away his deteriorating condition. She immediately went for her phone, but he shook his head and began to grab for her pant leg. "D-Don't. This… Ist es normal."

She got up from the couch and kneeled at his side, "Holy crap… you're burning up." She did her best to help him to bed and make him comfortable. "Are you alright?" His pale, shaking form gave no form of response and she was horrified to find that he'd already fallen asleep. Her eyes widened and she let out a shaky exhale, resting her head on his mattress. She thought for sure that he'd have more time. Lifting her head, she stood, walking out to where he'd thrown his jacket. She took his cell phone from his pocket and went through his recent calls. A name caught her eye - _Doktor_ - she was definitely not fluent in German, but she had enough common sense to put two and two together. She didn't hesitate to hit the call button. It began to ring and she waited for someone - anyone - to pick up. The phone kept ringing in her ears and but the time she re-entered Klavier's room, there was finally an answer.

"Hello? Mister Gavin?"

"No," she replied. She sounded dazed and detached, "I'm a friend of his, Ema Skye."

"Is something the matter, Miss Skye? Why are you calling from Mr. Gavin's number? Is something the matter?" There was a long pause as Ema stared at her ailing companion with a look of shock. "Miss Skye? Are you still there? What's the matter?"

"He's not breathing anymore."

* * *

**Oh no**, everybody run, it's a cliffhanger!


	4. Simple Moves

I'm sorry. NaNoWriMo ate my life for November, then my mouse - whose name, oddly enough, is "_Klavier_"- got really sick. Basically, November stunk, which is why this update was really late. Also, I'm not really up with medical jargon, so if anything in this chapter sounds weird, sorry. (Probably should have thought of that before I started writing this story.) Longest chapter so far, I think. Even though, it's not as long as it could be. And before we start, I couldn't bring myself to use Dr. Hotti/Hickfield. I wanted this part of the story to be a little bit more on the serious side... so I subbed him in with a different doctor. D: I can only hope you'll all forgive my usage of an original doctor... -shot'd-

One more thing; I sort of made this chapter out of the _Simple Moves _I'd originally written for this and a chapter later on in the story. I went over it quite a few times and can't find anything wrong, but you can never be sure. Let me know about errors? I'd tried to post this on the ninth... but I wound up rewriting a bunch of it. And here we are now. On the thirteenth. ...I'll shut up now. Enjoy. xD

* * *

**Chapter 4: Simple Moves**

Ema hated ambulances. Everything about them was a complete negative for her; the noise, the speed, the smell. But what really took the cake was when she had to sit in the back of one, watching EMTs work on the German. It was nerve-wracking, watching them trying to their hardest to help him start breathing again.

"Bag the patient, get him breathing!" After a few agonizing moments, relief washed over her. She heard him inhale sharply on his own, but the relief washed away quickly when his breaths faded into nothing more than frantic gasps and wheezes. She focused her gaze on the floor, listening to him wheeze; blocking almost everything else out.

Ema hadn't even realized that the ambulance had screeched to a halt until the back doors flew open and the prosecutor was removed from the vehicle. To her dismay, a nurse forced her into a small waiting area and told her that someone would come for her later.

The scientific detective spent a majority of her **three hour** wait pacing and being angry.

It was well into the night when she decided to get a snack from the vending machine. She wound up beating up a vending machine that ate her dollar and refused to give up a small package of snackoos. After ten minutes and successfully damaging said machine, she leaned against the adjacent wall and growled. _This day officially __**sucks**__! _She sunk to the ground and brought her knees to her chest. _I went to stupid work, did paperwork, ran all over creation… just when I think I can relax, glimmer-boy goes and stops breathing and now that machine won't even let me have my snackoos!_ She brushed her hair from her eyes. _Ugh. I can't believe I had to do CPR on him._ She let out a sigh, not even noticing a man walk past her. _I wonder if he's okay..._ A loud noise floated past her ear, followed by the sound of a crinkling wrapper.

"Is this yours?" A tall, composed looking man - Ema assumed he was about in his forties - stood before her, holding out the small package of snackoos she had so desperately tried to acquire before. Ema nodded silently and took the package with a slightly bruised hand. "You beat the poor machine up pretty good, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Ema said, watching him carefully "Who are you?" There was a long, awkward silence as he, out of habit, checked his pager.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Dr. Eugene Orchid, Klavier's primary physician. Please, call me Gene."

"…Orkin? Like… the bug exterminators?" The man shook his head, crossing his arms and letting out a deep sigh.

"No. No. No. _Orchid_. Why does everyone mishear that?"

"Maybe it's because I'm still coming down from a panic induced adrenalin rush and I'm a little sleepy," Ema countered, opening the snackoo package. Glancing up at him, she felt the urge to chuck a snackoo right at his head, but shook it away. _No way am I wasting any of these babies._ "Oh, thank you. Uh… for these."

"Not a problem," he replied, staring at the wall, "It's a good thing you knew CPR, he'd probably be dead right now. Speaking of him, why aren't you with Klavier, huh? He's been settled in for quite sometime now." Ema glanced up at Gene with furrowed brows.

"They said they would come get me later," she grumbled, munching in irritation. "It's been three hours."

"Guh," Gene muttered, rolling brown eyes, "C'mon. I'll take you back; there's some stuff I have to tell you about how to take care of your difficult little house guest." Gene led Ema through the large security door, up the elevator and back past a row of full rooms. He stopped in front of a closed door and turned to wait for her. "Are you worried?" he asked, watching her hesitate. She frowned deeply.

"Of course not." He shook his head, smiling.

"You're shaking like a leaf." She backed away from the door after finally noticing the name tag next to the door frame.

_Gavin, Klavier_. A fire burned within her. She didn't know why, but she hated that tag and all it stood for. She hated the man behind that door for getting sick. She hated Borginia. She hated their stupid _Fever_. She quickly hit the name tag with a snackoo and growled as it fell to the ground and cracked into pieces.

"…What did you do that for?"

"What the hell happened? That wasn't one of the symptoms I read about. Not at all." Dark blue eyes watched Gene carefully. The man frowned.

"From what I've researched, respiratory arrest is a co-" A sudden jolt of a adrenaline coursed through both adults standing in the hallway. A terrified scream echoed from the blonde's private room, taking both adults by surprise. The scream, which tapered off into alarmed grumbles, were accompanied by the sounds of thrashing limbs becoming tangled within the thin sheets.

"What's wrong with him?!" Ema shouted, looking at Dr. Orchid with worry.

"_Oh_ _shit_." came Gene's reply, "He's conscious." She raised an eyebrow.

"Wait a minute, scientifically speaking, isn't that a good thing?"

"It's a terrible thing when your patient happens to be a high maintenance rock god who's worst nightmare is being in a hospital."

"How the heck does he keep this disease in check if he never comes here?!" He shushed her, trying not to disturb any of the sleeping patients.

"We compromised; I come to him." The woman groaned silently,

"...Which most likely means that coward paid you off."

"Can we focus on the matter at hand?" Gene flung the door open and entered in a huff, listening to the blonde mutter words of fear in broken German. "Stay there, I'll call you in when he's calm." Ema leaned next to the door, almost unable to bring herself to so much as peek in to look at him. He sounded scared and Ema realized that she hated it. Unable to stifle the worry… no, the _curiosity_, she peeked in hesitantly, instantly regretting her decision. She'd never seen such a look of complete and utter horror on her boss's face. He untangled his arm enough to slap away the needle Gene had once held. "Calm down. You're alright." With the same hand, he reached for the iv needle. "_Hey_! Don't rip that out, you'll start bleeding." Gene's firm voice echoed into the hallway along with Klavier's, obviously displeased sounding, mantra of _get me out of here_. A few minutes passed before Klavier's words became even less pronounced, his voice quieted and his displeased mantra tapered off into placid, drugged murmurs. "Ema, can you come in here?" Pushing away from the wall, she closed her eyes and walked forward. As soon as her body crossed through the doorway, her eyes eased open.

He was pale, mumbling, and dressed in an unflattering hospital gown. A plastic oxygen tube rested underneath his nose. His chest rose and fell slowly. Machinery beeped and whirred around him, yet he seemed completely oblivious. His head lolled against the lumpy pillow, his eyelids drooped. _He's been sedated._ she thought, _Definitely for the best, he'd probably start screaming again if he wasn't. I mean… hospitals are unpleasant and inconvenient, but… okay. Maybe I understand a litt-_ Her thoughts were interrupted by Klavier himself, making a quiet, throaty noise to catch her attention.

"Fr-" He yawned quietly, interrupting himself. His words were less pronounced, more of a drugged babble. Ema could only assume that the slurring translated to her nickname,_ Fraülein Detektiv._ His eyes trailed up to her face. Ema watched him sleepily motion for her to come closer. She stepped with caution and sat quietly in the chair next to his bed.

"You okay?" He was already half asleep and valiantly trying to fight off the impending darkness- almost as if he were afraid of it. "You should sleep, you know. Nothing will happen. You're safe." He shook his head, still motioning for her to come closer. "Damn, how close do you want me to get?" she asked, leaning in closer, her nose nearly touching his. As best as he could, the man leaned up and placed a quick, uncoordinated kiss upon her lips. He fell back against the bed, smiling lopsidedly as a blush rushed across her face. Ema took her seat and crossed her arms. After his eyes closed, she moved some blonde locks away from his face, her tense fingers brushing up against his skin. She relaxed a bit. "He's… sweaty."

"His fever's breaking."

"He's still wheezing though."

"Don't be such a downer. He'll be okay for now, you two will be at your house before you know it. Come on. We need to talk about his condition." Those were the last words Ema wanted to hear. "He'll be alright for a long while. But sometime down the road, he'll need your constant attention. Or if you can't do that, a nurse. Come with me, okay?"

* * *

Ema wasn't sure how she'd gotten to the cafeteria, but she was fairly certain that Gene had dragged her. Deciding not to ask any questions, she sat down, hung her head in her hands and gave a sigh. _Ema, you can't be worrying this much; he'll wake up tomorrow and he'll be okay_.

_He won't be okay later on, though_. She quickly rejected that thought, but it returned and bounced around in the back of her mind. _He's won't be alright forever. _She reached for her snackoos and munched, dismissing the thought. _He can't hold out that long. _The relentless thoughts got louder, she munched and tried desperately think of the future. _That... that __**idiot**__ is going to die slowly right in front of me! _This thought was louder than the last and was harder to dismiss.

"Coffee?"

"Huh?! Oh, I'll take it black. Thanks." After he'd served her coffee, they both sat in an awkward silence for a moment before the older man spoke.

"I'm going to cut to the chase; I'm not above begging you. I really need you to help me, Ema," Orchid sighed, "If things get bad, which they will eventually, you know that Klavier will refuse any form of hospital treatment. For some reason he's got a hospital phobia."

"Why is that?" Ema asked, voice laced with honest curiosity.

"From what I've heard from Kris-" Ema quickly interrupted, shocked to hear that Orchid knew Kristoph. The brunette haired man sighed, fingering his coffee mug. He quickly explained that he met Kristoph while being a witness during a trial. They got along rather well and would sometimes, when they had the time, keep in touch each other. "Anyway, from what Kristoph's told me, the kid's been terrified of hospitals since he was young. A phobia. Said that this fear is completely irrational. According to him, Klavier's never been admitted to the hospital in his entire life; Kristoph's never been able to get him to any hospital for anything. Ever."

"I don't know how accurate Kristoph's information is; he _is_ a convicted felon."

"Very true, but why would he lie about something silly like that?" He paused, "But anyway, when the time is right, I need you to convince him to come here."

"How am I going to be able to do that? You and Kristoph can't get him t-"

"You haven't noticed? He's got a soft spot for you." Ema raised an eyebrow. "I went to see him the other week, at his house, so I could check up on him. He told me all about you."

_So, I guess now I know where he's going most of the time, _Ema felt the need to change the subject. And fast.

"Er… How bad is he? Will he be okay?"

"Yeah, he'll be alright. He's at the end of the first stage, which is why he suddenly took a turn like that." Ema nodded thoughtfully, prompting Gene to pause.

_...I thought we'd have more time._ _But he never did really explain to me what was wrong with him, or how long he'd been sick. I guess he didn't think I'd care or something. What a jerk! If he came to me for help, that was the first thing he should have done. I hadn't even **heard** of Borginian Fever until he showed up! _Taking a sip of coffee, the brunette silently seethed._  
_

"Hey, Ema?"

"Sorry, continue."

"He should be feeling at least a little better by tomorrow. He'll still be a bit off and feverish, so we need to keep him in bed here until that wears off. This might be hard… but we should start talking about the long term here. Have you heard of this disease before?"

"I looked it up online," Ema replied, messing with her hair. "All the website told me was some of the symptoms and how it's contracted." The doctor nodded thoughtfully. "I read what I could, but it was so damn depressing."

"Disease is always depressing. Especially when your loved one is stricken."

"Whoa whoa, _loved one_, is a strong term, he's more like… an annoying acquaintance." This earned her another thoughtful nod and a half of a smirk. "Sorry, please continue." He continued on about the more advanced symptoms.

"I've had to read up quite a bit on this illness of his. And from what I've read, living with the Fever doesn't get any easier." Ema braced herself, "His ability to write and do other things," Orchid made a guitar playing motion, "will most likely be entirely compromised by the end of stage two. He'll probably start getting a bit frustrated. Be patient. You know, stages of grief and all. Weakness is normal in this stage, as well. He'll maintain a low grade fever." Ema took notes as he told her how to take care of Klavier and keep him comfortable while his life slipped away in stage three. It was only when the pencil ripped a hole through the paper, he glanced at Ema's hand. The brunette's knuckles were white because of her grip on the pencil. "You need me to slow down?"

_Inhale, Ema. Not exhale. You're fine, _her thoughts scolded, the death grip on the pencil finally let up.

"I know this is pretty upsetting to listen to."

"**Me**? Upset? Oh no, Gene, I'm not upset. Especially not for a stupid fop like him!"

"You're being defensive." He handed her a tissue from his pocket.

"I'm **not **being defensive!" The man watched carefully as she wiped her hair out of her face and continued to stared down at the paper with slight anxiety, "Anyway, is that all I need to know?"

"The way his life ends can vary, Ema. It depends on innumerable factors. But you know what? As long as he's with you, I'm pretty sure he'll die a happy man."

"Why is he doing this to me?" She crossed her arms and leaned back in the hard, metal chair.

"You know… that this the last thing he wants to do to you. Has he offered to leave yet?" A stiff nod. "He's got nowhere to go. Kristoph, Daryan and even his father are in jail. His mother's dead. His band members have left to go live their lives."

"How do you know all of this?"

"He told me."

"That jerk doesn't tell me _anything_." Ema downed her coffee, stood and started back up toward his room.

"Last door on the left!" he called, watching her quickly retreat. "And stop running!"

* * *

Scientifically speaking, it was a set of simple, yet obscenely complex moves. _Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Walk. Breathe. Walk. Breathe. You don't love him, Ema. He's not even your friend. He's nothing but a nuisance._ The elevator ride was unsettling, in fact, it made her feel completely sick to her stomach. _Last door on the left. Turn the knob, push the door in. Enter the room. Sit down._ She hadn't even realized she was sitting down.

She couldn't understand why she was so angry. Or why she even cared this much. Resting her head on his lumpy, uncomfortable mattress, she lost herself in her thoughts. Ema hadn't even realized she'd fallen asleep until she woke up in the morning. Her head was pounding, but supposed it was because of the tiny bit crying she'd done last night. She lifted her head from the mattress and tilted it to the left, cracking her neck and stretching her shoulders a bit. They were stiff and the sore from sleeping hunched over. She gave an awkward glance to her right and realized that he was still asleep. Being careful not to wake her blonde companion, she yawned quietly and stood. He groaned in his sleep, but did not wake. Soft light filtered through the window's curtains, highlighting his every feature. In this light, she could plainly see the dark rings under his eyes. _How_ _come I never noticed those before? It must have been all that damn makeup. Ugh… why does he have to be so metrosexual?_ Her fingers brushed against his flush face. _Yep, he's still warm_. A frown played across her face. _I need some coffee… _She turned to walk into the hallway, but the German shifted uncomfortably, murmuring what she thought were the words, "_wait, please don't leave me alone"_ as he awkwardly reached out to grab her before she left.

"You awake?" His response was no more than a sleepy mumble, but she was happy to hear his voice. "Do you have any memory of what happened last night?"

"I remember your driving," he mumbled, "_Scary_." She raised an eyebrow and gave him a look, "I'm not joking, ja? I was scared for my life." Her glare intensified as he took in his surroundings. "Why am I here? What happened?"

"_You almost died_," Ema grumbled. "You passed out and stopped breathing. That's why you're here." He didn't look at her, but flashed her a weak smile.

"I'm sorry I worried you."

"You're lucky I know CPR," she spat.

"Ach," he sighed, still looking around, "you-"

"If your next sentence has **anything** to do with _mouth-to-mouth_, or _oh my god, I don't want to be in a hospital_, I'll strangle you." Klavier's rather anxious expression turned serious. "_What_?"

"Ema." He attempted to get up, but she pushed him back to the bed's lumpy surface.

"Don't get up, if you go around unnecessarily straining yourself; you might just make yourself sicker." A small frown, which looked like more of a pout, weaseled its way onto his face. "Look… I know," she frowned deeply, "that somewhere in that messed up brain of yours, you're scared… But just relax, okay? Wait until the doctors say you can leave. I promise, you'll be okay, okay?" She sounded a bit more annoyed than soothing, but he wasn't about to complain; he found it slightly refreshing. That, and he'd take any sort of affection she would give him at this point. He closed his eyes, trying to forget about where he was, but couldn't help asking,

"As soon as they give the word... then you'll get me out of here as fast as you can?" A sigh.

"You got it, fop." As much as the brunette wanted to ignore the blonde and his puppy-dog eyes that seemed to just whine the words "_hug me_", she couldn't. He seemed surprised when she decided to help him out by sitting on the edge of his bed and lowering herself into his arms. He embraced her as tightly as he could.

"Thank you, Ema," he repeated, "You saved my life."

"You almost died," she muttered, trying her hardest to listen for his heartbeat. Klavier would never let Ema forget it if she told him, but she was rather comfortable in his arms. Body heat radiated off of him, warming her and nearly coaxing her to sleep once more.

"I'm sorry."

"You stopped breathing."

"I'm sorry." He couldn't think of anything else to say, really. His mind was in a fog, which he chalked up to the drugs coursing through his veins. "I'm so-"

"Will you stop apologizing?" He let her go and she sat up. "It wasn't your fault, any-"

"Ema," Gene appeared in the doorway, tightly gripping a chart in his hands. His voice was grim, firm and foreboding. "I need to speak with you." Ema nodded, uttering a quick,

"I'll be right back, okay?" to her companion. Once she was out in the hallway, the tall doctor shut the door. "What?"

"Well, I've done a bit more research and from what I've found, the whole _not breathing _thing? Caused by extreme stress. It makes the disease flair up."

_All the work he was trying to get done, me being upset with him, and going to see Kristoph. Not to mention the car ride home. That was quite a bit of stress. I guess he's pretty lucky that he collapsed when I was around._

"It's been seen in people with this disease, so… there's that. But I've got some bad news that I have to share. And since you're the closest thing he's got to family right now, you're going to hear it. When I went to see him before, I ran some blood tests. I just got the chance to look over the results. I'm afraid I found something abnormal. The _Fever_ cells in his body are different from that of what we'd call the norm. I'm gonna have to say… it seems he's infected with a mutated strain of Borginian Fever."

"You don't mean…"

"Yeah. I think this was an intentional infection." Ema blanched, her mouth dropping open in shock. The detective suddenly felt a pang of anger. Someone had used her precious science to hurt someone close to her.

"_What_?!" He hushed her, reminding her of where she was. "A-Are you sure?" The detective was reeling.

"I'm one hundred percent sure. As for who did it, I can't tell you."

* * *

(Gaaah, I'm thinking of rewriting this chapter from scratch.) Chapter five is already in the works, I'm going to try to update before the holidays steal me away, no guarantees.


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